Shocking New Bill To Regulate Podcasts In South Africa

Critics argue ANC’s podcast regulation push threatens South Africa’s last bastion of uncensored free speech

In a move that raises serious constitutional and ethical questions, the South African government has made its intentions known: it wants to regulate podcasting. Under the veneer of “codes of conduct” and “frameworks for self-regulation,” this initiative is less about public protection and more about narrative control.

Khusela Diko, Chairperson of Parliament’s Committee on Communication, recently made public remarks suggesting South Africa urgently needs a framework to oversee podcast content, citing models from traditional media. In an interview with SowetanLive, Diko dismissed concerns about state interference while ironically advocating for regulation mechanisms historically used to suppress dissent.

At the heart of this controversy lies a tweet by Diko, condemning what she described as “vile and harmful” podcast content, following public outcry over comments made on a high-profile podcast episode. While it is entirely reasonable for society to hold offensive commentary to account under existing legal frameworks for defamation, incitement, and hate speech, South Africa already possesses robust legislation covering these areas. The urgent question, then, is: why the sudden political appetite for regulation?

The answer appears disconcertingly simple — control.

The proposed model, likened to the Broadcast Complaints Commission of South Africa (BCCSA), ostensibly aims to maintain dignity and accountability. However, critics have long argued that the BCCSA has been weaponised to protect state-linked media while targeting independent voices. Its track record during election cycles, in particular, reveals a pattern of selective enforcement.

Pragmatically, enforcing podcast regulation poses near-insurmountable technical challenges. With VPNs, decentralised hosting, and cross-border digital platforms, jurisdictional authority becomes both murky and unenforceable. This suggests that the primary objective is not functional oversight, but to intimidate content creators and instill fear of unseen, constantly shifting “lines.”

The underlying threat is the gradual construction of what can only be described as a velvet censorship machine. Wrapped in the language of responsibility and public interest, such measures risk silencing dissenting voices under the guise of protecting public morality.

South Africa’s constitutional promise of free speech is already strained under increasing state surveillance rhetoric. Allowing this initiative to proceed would set a dangerous precedent — one where independent digital commentary could be throttled for mere offence, rather than genuine harm.

As Joe Emilio aptly stated in his latest Newsflash episode:

“We are not a democracy if we panic every time someone uses their freedom of speech.”

The public must demand clarity:

• Will ANC-aligned podcasts be subject to the same scrutiny?

• How will Parliament enforce regulation across digital borders?

• Why duplicate legislation for offences already punishable under existing law?

This is not about protecting the public. It’s about protecting a narrative. And as history has repeatedly shown, once censorship mechanisms take root, rolling them back is nearly impossible.